


The Flight of the Apollo

by MrToddWilkins (orphan_account)



Category: NASA RPF
Genre: Alternate History, F/M, translation of a German fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MrToddWilkins





	1. A preflight medical check

Blood pressure 120/180.  
Pulse 72.  
Breathing 13.  
It was so far. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Faulk, USMC, knew it for sure. His face showed no change, his dark eyes remained on Dr. Ing. Ashfield directed. The doctor had not mentioned any of this - this was left to director Phil Herndon - but his behavior did not allow anyone to finish it. Ashfield was too serious, his clever eyes too critical. In addition, the choice of the three astronauts who were to land on the moon with the spaceship Apollo was long overdue. The three-stage Saturn C-5, which served as a launcher for the Apollo, was ready to launch - now only three of NASA's 11 astronauts had to be designated as an Occupation.  
He himself? The hope flickered on and went out just as quickly. Not after the catastrophe two years ago, Faulk thought disappointed. His name rarely appeared in the newspapers discussing the prospects of the eleven astronauts. This medical examination, which the entire team had to undergo, was only a preselection. Nevertheless, he felt a significant change in the nature of the doctor. He made no move, wondering at the same time whether the other suspected the storm that was raging within him.  
The doctor straightened up and put the stethoscope aside. "You're in great shape, Joe. How do you know about the flight? "  
There, now it was out! Faulk took a deep breath. "I hope so ..." he answered.  
"They're praying," Ashfield corrected, giving him a scrutinizing look through his rimless glasses.  
"That too," admitted Faulk. He expected the other to mention the incident of that time, and was relieved when Ashfield did not. Maybe he would come back to this later?  
"Karen?" Ashfield asked instead.  
"She's alright." Faulk thought of his wife, of her brave smile, when they talked about his prospects of being picked for the moon flight. However, they did not expect it seriously - after he had canceled a start two years ago.  
Still, he knew that her smile hid a thousand fears. Karen would never show her openly. But she had been worried when he was still flying jet fighters, and now he sometimes woke up at night because she fantasized in the dream.

Ashfield nodded absently. "True, she's really alright." The tone of his voice indicated that he knew very well what fears were hidden behind her smile. "You would like to fly, eh?" He added.  
Faulk mastered himself only laboriously. This harmless question meant that he was one of the promising candidates! At the same time, he thought hard before answering. Ashfield was not only a doctor, but also a very good psychiatrist. Faulk fancied he knew him better than the other astronauts. Because they are occasionally sitting together over a glass of beer? Because Ashfield visited Karen and him from time to time? He did not know it, but he understood that the routine checkup was only an excuse to give Ashfield a chance to ask some questions. The answers would decide everything.  
Faulk glanced at the expectant face of the other. "It's my job," he answered slowly. "After all, I was trained for it."  
"The others too."  
"Yes," he agreed calmly.  
"But you want to fly?"  
"Naturally."  
"Personal ambition, Joe?"

“Maybe, I do not know. "He looked at the doctor. "Why did Hillary want to climb Mount Everest? The dream is as old as humanity, Doctor. The answer is always the same. "  
"And what is she?"  
"Because there was something."  
"So personal ambition?"  
"Human curiosity," Faulk corrected, "but you can’t argue about motivations. I assume there are other reasons. "  
"Very deep, Joe. Do you feel confident? "  
"If you remember that I ..."  
"I do not think about anything," interrupted the doctor. "It's a logical question."  
"I have complete confidence," Faulk replied simply. "To Apollo - or to yourself?"

Both. "He hesitated. "You can not look at the crew and the spaceship separately. They belong together. "  
"That's right," Ashfield admitted. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Faulk thoughtfully. "You all give the same answers, Joe. Did you rehearse them together? "  
"No." Faulk grinned in amusement. That was once again typical of psychiatrist Ashfield trying to fool him. "Is it not understandable that we think alike?"  
Ashfield smiled. "Maybe, but I still want to know what you really think. Are you afraid? "The last question came as a complete surprise.  
"A little bit of fear is always part of this business," admitted Faulk hesitantly. "It just can not go without it. You know that, too. Every jet fighter pilot has it. "  
"But now you are more afraid than before?"  
"I can not deny that."  
"How is that?"  
"You're in an airplane from take-off to landing  
responsible for everything, "Faulk told him. "But here you are completely superfluous during the launch - pure payload."  
"Delivered to the machine, eh?"  
"You could call it that similar."

You could call it that similar. "  
"A normal reaction," Ashfield reassured him.  
Faulk grinned. "You should give it a try, Doctor." "No, thanks. I prefer to stick to my pills. "  
Doctor leaned forward. "Who in your opinion is the best piloy of the entire team, Joe? You, of course, except. "  
Faulk hesitated in surprise. "Tie," he finally said. "Max Kovac or Whitey Burke."  
"Interesting." Ashfield looked at his watch. "That's all for today, Joe."  
"Thanks." When Faulk got up, the doctor held him back. "Please send Kovac in, right?"  
"Will do." Faulk suppressed his arousal when  
he left the room. The moon. The big flight. The goal he had been aiming for since the first Sputnik announced a new age. In the beginning everything was just a shit. He had done well, taken first place among the astronauts. See you ...  
He forced himself to think of something else. He had a chance, a very small one. Why had Ashfield asked him the last question? To test his judgment? Kovac and Burke were first class. Everyone knew that - though he thought himself better. Kovac, he thought, or Burke. Or both. Then the third place remained. That depended on Ashfield's assessment. And from Phil Herndon, that icy calculator for whom sentimentality was an unknown word. Ashfield was able to examine her for physical and mental defects; Herndon would only see one thing: Does he have what it takes? Given the condition, Faulk considered, it probably no longer mattered whether one was normal, or had two heads and three legs ...  
A few minutes later, he stood outside Complex 39, the giant launch pad only one of NASA's purpose had been built - to carry people to the moon. In the midst of the steel construction sat the Saturn, the gigantic three-stage rocket that would bring the spaceship into a circular orbit around the earth. At the head of the rocket was also the strange apparatus, which officially bore the name "moon landing capsule", while the astronauts called it "moon beetle". He would represent the connection between the Apollo, which would orbit the Moon, and the inhospitable surface of the Moon. The moon beetle - a dream ship ...

 


	2. Remembrance of a failed launch

The moon. Faulk thought back to past times. The first prototypes of the spacecraft had been tested within the Earth's atmosphere, followed by a series of experiments to determine the flight characteristics upon re-entry into the atmosphere. Almost exactly two years ago, a trial run had taken place. Only Apollo had never left the air layer of the earth. The flight had been canceled - he had broken it off!  
The past reappeared before him.  
T plus 15 seconds. The launcher rose, steadily accelerated, pitching slightly to negotiate the prescribed lane.  
He was aboard Apollo alone. Copilot and Navigator had been replaced by ballast. Faulk sat in the commander's chair, feeling the force of gravity, feeling the vibrations coming from the engines. He was a daredevil back then-the number one astronaut who was already a member of Apollo's crew.

Yes, he remembered it well.  
Higher, higher, into the sky. Then ...  
A red light blinked.  
Fire alarm! He sat on thousands of liters of explosive fuel, which consisted of a mixture of liquid oxygen and kerosene - and the red lamp flashed. Red! Danger! Fire! Fuel spurting out of broken pipes - flames over the afterburner!  
Faulk waited a moment, but when the attempt did not stop automatically he turned on the microphone:  
"Pilot at take-off control. The red light is flashing - fire alarm! "He stared at the flashing light, waiting every moment for the explosion of the rocket. Then the launch control came in, but the atmospheric disturbances were so strong that he understood only one word. "... break off!" He reacted without thinking, because he had practiced it often enough - he reached out his hand and pressed the button, which was intended for such emergencies. Ten tens of seconds later, the ten rockets fired and separated the Apollo from the launcher. A sudden increase in gravity, a sudden faint ... Faulk regained consciousness as the spaceship crashed into the sea. Shortly afterwards a destroyer took him aboard.  
There was no fire alarm!  
That was the name of the launch control later. The instruments had indicated green until he had pressed the button. The flight had cost millions and brought no results - because of him. The start control had sparked: "Our measurements give no cause for demolition!"

He'd explained it to the committee - the flashing light, the only word he'd heard over the radio. They were all very nice to him. The committee agreed that it must have been due to the instruments. Except for Senator Ford Halpern, who complained about the wasted millions, hardly anyone mentioned the incident.  
But he was no longer astronaut number one. Now Max Kovac and Whitey Burke shared this honor. They were certainly not bad, but Faulk knew he was better. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Faulk, USMC, the man who stepped out of the Apollo - that was the name everywhere. He should have given up, but with Kaen's support he stayed with it. Maybe he had a chance now. Not as a pilot - he could not really hope for that - but as a copilot or navigator.

 


	3. Crew decisions

He stared at the rocket. The huge first stage of Boeing, whose five F-1 engines delivered four million kilograms of thrust; the second stage of North American, whose J-2 engines worked with a mixture of liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen; the third stage of Douglas ...  
Faulk heard someone approaching, turned and saw Lieutenant Commander Les Mallon, who had stumbled across the plane of sluggish Navy to the astronauts. Mallon grinned and pulled a crushed cigarette out of his pocket.  
"Fine, eh?" Mallon pointed to the Saturn.  
"A great bird," Faulk agreed. He liked Mallon, who, despite his thirty-five years, was still young-not to disappoint the other girls, he claimed. Faulk knew that the other intelligence combined courage, though he seemed more like a big boy.  
Mallon gave him a quick look. "I suppose we'll know soon," he said.  
"Stage Fright?"  
"Like before the premiere."  
"Me too," admitted Faulk.  
"You have no reason to." Mallon saw him guess. "No?"  
"You have it in your pocket, Joe."  
"Hmm ..." Faulk said, thinking back to the aborted attempt of two years ago.  
"Everyone knows that," Mallon said.  
"Not me, Les."  
"Nonsense," Mallon stated. "Everyone knows that back then  
the instruments have failed. You are far ahead of us - you have much more flight experience. "  
"It's not just the flying experience, Les." "You have the rest, too."  
Faulk grinned satisfied. "I hope you really have confidence.”  
"Definitely," Mallon assured him. "The great  
Guesswork starts around the others. "  
"Did you hear something?" Faulk asked. Mallon was in favor  
known that he could predict important decisions.  
"Max Kovac or Whitey Burke," he answered, "but by no means both. One has to stay behind-for the next flight. "

And ... ?"  
"That's not easy to say. I think I have a chance, but Waco, Myers and the others have them too. Pure luck thing. "  
"You can not sell yourself too cheap, Les."  
"I'm just honest," the other told him. "Nevertheless ..."  
Mallon glanced at the mighty rocket,  
then he kicked out his cigarette. "What do you think about a beer in the canteen, Joe?"

———-

In a sense, Phil Herndon had the most responsible post in the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). Although he was not at the top, but the choice of the three astronauts for the moon flight depended on his decision. He knew that responsibility for success or failure-life or death-rested on his shoulders. That made his job so difficult.  
Herndon stood up as Faulk entered his office and shook his hand. He gave him a searching look, then pointed to a chair and sat down behind his desk.  
"I have sent for you to tell you that you will be part of the crew of Apollo," he said shortly, for he did not like to lose many words.  
"I did not dare to hope for that," Faulk answered in surprise.  
Herndon looked at him. "Remember the broken attempt, Joe?"  
"Yes."  
"Can happen."  
"I know." Faulk smiled slightly. "Finally I have  
it myself participated. "  
"A failure of the instruments," Herndon stated.  
"Do not think about it anymore."  
"But the others are still doing it," Faulk replied. "I  
I'm grateful for your trust, Phil, but I do not want to endanger the success. "  
"Why endanger?" Herndon asked.  
"Because of the others. Will they have confidence in me? "  
"Why not?"  
"Joe Faulk, who dropped out of the Apollo - that will forever follow me."  
"Prove them the opposite!" Said Herndon sharply. "I'll give you the job because I know you've coped with it, Joe. If I knew a better thing, I would take it. Finally, I think about my decisions long enough ... "  
"I'll do it," Faulk said simply.  
"Good," Herndon said, sitting back comfortably. "They deserved it."  
"You could say that about anyone." Faulk thought of the disappointed faces of the others when the members of the party were standing firm. Pilot? He looked questioningly at Herndon. The other one seemed to have guessed his thoughts.

You're number one, Joe. The bird is yours. "Faulk only nodded because he did not trust his voice. "Any questions?" Herndon lit a pipe.  
"Are the others already stuck?"  
"The crew? No. "Herndon looked at him calmly. "This time, someone else is making that decision, Joe."  
"Oh?"  
"Normally I should meet them," Herndon went on, "but I think you should check out the crew yourself. However, I have to make a condition - you can not have Max Kovac and Whitey Burke. We need one of them for the next flight. "  
"I know that, Phil. I want Kovac."  
"Max?" Herndon did not seem surprised.  
"I thought he or Burke would get my job  
would, "admitted Faulk.  
"I thought so too," Herndon confirmed.  
"And who do you want as number three?"  
"Les Mallon," Faulk decided.  
"The happy bachelors," Herndon said  
a slight smile. "Does he know that there are no pretty girls on the moon?"  
Faulk grinned. "He will gladly bring the little sacrifice."  
"Fine." Herndon looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you aware of the consequences of success or failure, Joe? The prestige of America depends on it! "  
"I know that," Faulk replied simply.  
"Sure," Herndon agreed, "but there's something else to that. Failure could mean that the whole project has to be ended. " 

Senator Halpern? "  
Herndon nodded. "He's shouting the loudest, but there's a lot of others ... They're all upset about the twenty-five billion our program has cost so far. Those jerks! "His face contorted contemptuously. "Can not they see that we are buying for planets?"  
"Cheaper than Alaska," Faulk said, "if you convert it accordingly."  
"The argument sells badly, Joe."  
"What sells better?"  
"Success!" Herndon leaned forward and knocked with the  
Forefinger on the desk. "A heroic death on the moon does not help us."  
"I have no intention of perishing over there," Faulk put in calmly.  
"You must come back, too," Herndon continued, as if he had not understood Faulk at all. "We need a Confetti Parade on Broadway, a symbol that people can see and hear. Do you remember the day John Glenn returned? The whole world experienced it at that time - from Tierra del Fuego to Siberia. We need something like that again - a living symbol of success. If we have that, Halpern will be able to keep quiet. "  
"I'll do my best, Phil."  
"I know you will, Joe. Definitely. "Herndon looked him in the eye. "I envy you for that. Really."


	4. Launch day

Day X.  
Hour X.  
The officer in charge of the launch sat in a reinforced concrete bunker that stretched over a thousand square meters, three hundred yards from the ridge. In front of him he had a console and a dozen television screens. The huge room was crammed with gauges, with men sitting in front of them with headphones, announcing each change immediately. Constantly new weather reports came in, which were evaluated immediately, data processing machines hummed, colorful lamps glowed and went out again.  
All the missile's systems had been checked during the last night - electrical, electronic, hydraulic, pneumatic and mechanic. The engines had been carefully examined, the ramp, the launch tower and the countless auxiliary units also. Finally, the devices inside the bunker had been tested-the communications, the alarms, the gauges. Nothing had been left to chance. Now the starting controller alone was responsible for the rocket - he had to decide on departure or departure.  
"Engines, Level One?" "Alright." "Thrusters, Level Two?" "All right." "Thrusters, Level Three?"

In order."  
"Autopilot and hydraulics?"  
"In order."  
The starting controller read the questions from a prepared list, the answers were recorded on tape. There were telegraph machines around him, constantly recording information, green lights flashing, machines buzzing.  
A warning signal sounded to prompt the operators to leave the launch pad.  
At T minus two hours, Joe Faulk entered the elevator at the bottom of the launch tower; Max Kovac and Les Mal lon followed him. Kovac looked like a metal robot in his bulky spacesuit, Faulk thought involuntarily. Unlike the other two, Mallon happily said goodbye to the driver of the car that had driven her to the rocket.  
"Let's go to the stars! I have always known that my mother's son would go far. "  
Faulk smiled dutifully, then they had already reached the tiny entry hatch.  
"Spacious," Mallon said carelessly. "I could have brought a toothbrush straight."

Faulk slid into the command seat, Kovac sitting next to him, Mallon behind them. The seats served as contour during the acceleration period. They started checking the instruments. The cabin of the Apollo was a microcosm - hermetically sealed off from the outside world, completely self-sufficient and insulated against environmental influences such as temperature fluctuations or noises. An air conditioning system automatically regulated oxygen supply, temperature compensation, humidity and air pressure.  
After checking the equipment, they turned on gauges that automatically recorded brainwaves, heartbeats, heartbeats, and respiration. This information would be transferred to Earth during the flight, where it will be displayed as a curve in Mission Control. In Ashfield's department would appear.  
Then they waited.  
The Saturn swayed only slightly, but Faulk felt as if they were reaching dangerously far. He heard a faint whistle as liquid oxygen at a temperature of minus 167 degrees Celsius flowed through thick tubes into the first stage tanks, while the second and third stages were additionally refueled with liquid hydrogen at a temperature of minus 217 degrees.  
T minus ... T minus ... At regular intervals a voice sounded in their headphones. Faulk waited nervously and imagined his hands were shaking as he did the final checks.  
T minus four minutes, clock running.  
Arrangements came through the radio: "Switch telemeter to automatic." "ON / OFF switch on stopwatch to ON." Other voices came forward: "news center ... fine." "Medical Department ... fine." Apron and ramp ... all right. "  
T minus three minutes, clock running.

At that moment, the eyes of the world turned to the gigantic Saturn C-5 and the relatively tiny Apollo at its head. NASA officials, officers, scientists and senior officers were watching them through binoculars from the bunker. Millions of people stared at television screens showing the final preparations. News satellites transmitted the launch to all continents. Saturn had become an international affair.  
T minus one minute, clock running.  
The pace accelerated. Faulk felt the excitement - she felt in the voice of the starting controller, in the quick questions and answers of the others. He glanced out of the porthole. Cape Kennedy and the bunker seemed deserted and deserted. He looked again at his instruments and winced when he had the red button in front of his eyes. He would never operate like that - not even when the cabin was on fire!  
Movie cameras started to run. Water poured into the exhaust duct below the main propulsion units in purged stream. The power supply cables were dropped at T minus thirty seconds. The countdown continued.  
"Apollo and crew?" The voice shrilled in Faulk's ears.  
"Copilot?" He asked quietly. "Done," Kovac replied. "Engineer?"  
"Okay," Mallon replied.  
Apollo ready to take off, "Faulk reported.  
"All systems in order," came the confirmation by radio.  
The launcher leaned back as the green flashing light on his console signaled that the electronic pulser had now taken over the launch. The device worked much more accurately than a human could have - but the launch control could shut down the main engines until the last moment the rocket was lifted. He stared hard at one of the TV screens.  
Five, four, three, two, one, zero - fire!


	5. The ascent of Apollo

Lieutenant-Colonel Faulk felt the vibration as the five first-stage F-1 engines slowly came to full speed. This part of the rocket was forty meters high and ten meters across, delivering four million kilograms of thrust and carrying nearly a hundred tons into a circular orbit around the earth. Now she was at the beginning of her short life, for the first stage would be burned out within a few minutes, within which she must have fulfilled her task.  
The noise of the engines became a thunder. Faulk's teeth rattled, though the soft padding on his lounger protected him somewhat from the vibration. He clenched his teeth. The hands of the instruments in front of him danced wildly up and down. He pinched his eyes, but the hands moved on.  
It starts, he thought. You're flying to the moon, Joe. He became serious again when he thought about his family. Karen ... she would be worried. He was glad that the children were still small. As the thunder grew louder, he concentrated again on his task. A voice sounded in his headphones:  
"Burke to Apollo ..."  
"Pilot," Faulk answered. Good that Whitey watched over her - he had the necessary experience.  
"All systems alright," Burke reported. "Looks good, Joe."  
"Thanks, Whitey." Faulk looked around the cabin again-a small room about four meters across, barely enough room for the three contoured chairs and the countless instruments. Every square centimeter was used. The sunlight penetrated the fivefold slices of glass and plastic portholes and illuminated the instruments in front of Faulk.  
"Good luck ..." The rest of Burke's words went away as the anchorages of the rocket broke loose. Faulk felt a slight upward movement.  
"Rocket takes off - clock running," he reported. "Roger that."

—————

Martin Lorry, the NBC reporter, clutching his microphone and talking excitedly into it:  
"The powerful engines of the Saturn C-5 are now working at full throttle. Streams of steam rise from the exhaust duct, which has been filled with water to cool the fine jets from the engines, and cover the lower half of the rocket. Saturn is now rising, rising vertically. The movement deceptively lasts for a long time - like that of a fly scrambling up a cloud. The five gigantic F-1 engines emit long flames - they are now developing four million kilograms of thrust.  
A wonderful sight, ladies and gentlemen. Today, on the 5th of July 1969, we are allowed to witness how the world sends the first humans to the moon. An uplifting feeling ...  
The Saturn is slowly gaining speed. The faces of the men around me reflect the highest concentration, but also confidence and the sense of having done good work. Only a few seconds, then Saturn will swerve onto the lane for which its ECUs have been programmed ... "  
"Alright," came Burke's calm voice through Faulk's headphones.  
"Understood," Faulk answered. A moment later he sensed that the engines were panning while the Saturn was heading for the course that would take them round the earth in a circular orbit. Gravity rose slowly and weighed on the three men.  
"Everything in perfect order ..."  
"The sky is bright blue," Faulk reported. "Fuel and oxygen normal. Pressure within the cabin is zero, but it is falling. "  
"Speed is rising fast. How are you? "

Excellent. "Faulk focused on the instruments. "Pressure is still relatively low."  
"Max ... Les?"  
"Great," Kovac answered equably.  
"Like a butterfly in a hurricane," Les admitted.  
The pressure rose evenly.  
Several minutes later, Faulk reported again. "Speed is rising ... no special difficulties. "  
"Roger that."  
"Sky is getting darker. Fuel and oxygen normal. Cabin pressure stabilized at zero point. Rocket yaws something. "  
"I can hear you well."  
"Understood, end." Faulk stared back at the instruments. The numbers were vague and vague. Faulk remembered that now millions of people were following the flight of the rocket. You would not say: how does the Apollo work, but: What is Joe Faulk doing now? If something went wrong, it would mean: Faulk has failed. But he would not fail!  
"Looks really good." Burke's voice was full of excitement. Under Faulk, the engines burned a high-explosive mixture of kerosene and oxygen, and the hot gases reached a speed of over nine thousand kilometers per hour. Four, five, six g - their speed was still rising. A red light flashed, and Faulk cast a worried look at the instruments. Number Four provided slightly less thrust than the other engines. As he reported the fact, the autopilot went into action. The red flashing light went out.  
Faulk clenched his teeth. He thought about the rides on the rocket sled, the experiments with the centrifuge on Randolph Field. He thought of ...  
"A nice contrail," Burke said reassuringly.  
They left the troposphere behind and invaded the stratosphere. Thirty-four kilometers into the air, there was a strong current of air that threatened to drive her westward. The autopilot responded immediately - the engines were tilted five degrees, so that the Saturn remained on course.  
"Gradient thirty-five degrees. Everything's fine, "said Burke.  
"Understood," answered Faulk with difficulty.  
The voice in the headset came back unexpectedly loud and clear. "Main engine burnout - as intended." At the same moment, Faulk felt an immense relief as the pressure eased suddenly. "Separation ..."  
"Understood, separation noticeable. It was nearly eight g towards the end. "The first stage had now separated from the Apollo and would follow her for some time before falling back and burning in the earth's atmosphere. "First level dropped - the light is green," added Faulk.  
"Separation height 61,600 meters, distance eighty-three miles, speed two thousand three hundred meters per second," Burke informed him.

Understood, talking through the station on Bermuda now ... much better reception. "  
"How are you?"  
"Well. Cabin pressure constantly reducing. "" Wonderful flight, "said a different voice. It took him a second to realize that Mallon had spoken.  
Somewhere inside the rocket the automatic ignition responded to a command from the electronic computer that was part of the Apollo's equipment. Helium gas forced liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen through long pipes into the heat exchangers. There they were evaporated and injected into the combustion chambers. The J-2 engines began to work and released long flames while delivering half a million kilograms of thrust.  
"Engine works," reported Faulk. "I also see the first step now - it's very slow."  
"Understood." Burke's voice was almost submerged in the adjoining noises that were painfully loud in Faulk's headphones.  
"Thermosphere." Kovac spoke louder than usual and observed the instruments carefully in front of him. Now they are in a zone where atoms and molecules have been ionized under the influence of the sun's strong electromagnetic radiation. This disrupted radio communications with Cape Kennedy, but the regular messages were still to be understood:  
"All systems in order ..."  
"Apollo on prescribed course ..."

Time ..."  
The second stage was not that bad. Faulk felt relieved, but at the same time he thought that the Apollo had covered only a few inches of a long way. Up here, everything looked very different than it had looked at groundbreaking missions down below. There, Dr. Olson covered the blackboard with endless lines and explained soberly:  
"Here, at a speed of over four thousand miles per hour ..." Faulk grinned involuntarily as he thought of it. Then he sat contentedly down a message in which he stated that "everything is green" on board. Phil Herndon would breathe again. Karen and Eva Kovac too - and maybe a handful of girls interested in Les Mallon. This time the roar was a bit closer, but the pressure was easier to bear. The clocks of the instruments no longer danced up and down. All lamps glowed green. Faulk liked the color.  
"Everything's okay," Burke's voice sounded distorted from the headphones. "Distance is exactly right."

Nice. "Faulk felt the sudden easing of the pressure. "Burning second stage."  
"Burning ... understood."  
Then a slight jolt came. "Separation ..."  
"Per second," confirmed Burke.  
"I can see the moon clearly."  
"In a few days you'll have it in your pocket." "Wait for ignition third stage," Faulk concluded. The rocket slipped silently on. The view was overwhelming. Faulk turned his head and saw Florida passing below.

The peninsula seemed to lie infinitely far below him. Through the bulkheads came a muffled noise that swelled rapidly to a steady thunder.  
"Ignition third stage," he said.  
"Apollo?"  
"Ignition third stage."  
"Understood, but just the reception was bad."  
"I hear you loud and clear."  
"Yes, now it's better here, too."  
"Instruments normal, everything green."  
"You look good, Joe."  
"I'm not worried now," Faulk replied. Leaning back, he wondered happily how well everything had worked out so far. The third-stage J-2 engine was now working at full power. It was powered by a mixture of oxygen and hydrogen that delivered much more energy than the first-stage fuel. The sound of the work could only be heard inside the cabin, for outside the air was so thin that sound waves could not reproduce in it. The air density here was only one millionth of the comparable value at sea level - a dusky world in which the first stars were glowing. The third stage brought the Apollo on a circular orbit around the earth. Later, the engine would start again and bring the spaceship on course to the moon. Then it would also be thrown off.  
Despite the increasing pressure, Faulk felt strangely light-the result of the difference between the cruel pressure of the first stage and the much smaller of the third. They are now racing through the exosphere, a layer in which the term matter has almost no meaning. They were at the very edge of the sea of air, which so far only a few Russian and American astronauts had reached.  
There was a croak in Faulk's headset, then a voice called. They were right on track. Everything was fine. The third stage completed its task by the hundredth - it propelled the Apollo into a circular orbit two hundred miles from Earth.  
Faulk leaned forward and stared out of a porthole. Seen from here, the earth looked gigantic - a curved surface that crashed on all sides. He glanced in the mirror, where the lower part of the rocket was visible. She had looked bulky on the launch pad, but now she seemed delicate and fragile. Apollo was really just a metal moth wandering about in this icy darkness. Faulk felt small and insignificant-like an ant trying to steer a tree trunk through a raging river.  
"Burning third stage is imminent." Burke's voice came weakly but clearly from Faulk's head.  
"Minus five seconds ..." Faulk followed the pointer of the clock. When he reached zero, the engine stopped. The Apollo had reached their first destination.  
"Done!" Kovac exclaimed loudly.  
"Exactly to the second," confirmed Faulk. "What a bird!" Mallon was excited.


	6. Interlude in Earth orbit

Faulk unplugged the plugs that led to the gauges on his body, unhooked the straps, opened the front panel of his helmet, and pushed them up. Then he unscrewed the oxygen supply, removed the helmet from his head and opened the lap belt. All movements went on without the slightest effort. He was sitting - but he felt no pressure against his back. His body was lighter than a feather. Kovac had also unbuckled and moved cautiously. Only Mallon seemed indifferent to the phenomenon of total weightlessness. He leaned forward and stared through a porthole.  
"Goodbye, Earth," he said in a nearly awesome voice.  
"Not yet, but soon," Kovac admitted confidently. "One or two rounds, then the fun really starts." Faulk nodded absentmindedly and thought that they would finally start in a few hours. The problem was to be in the right place at the right time, because only then could they hope to reach the moon, as expected.  
While the others excitedly watched the earth, Faulk reported speed and heading to Burke - 29320 kilometers per hour, two hundred and four kilometers high, heading east. They moved toward Gibraltar, on a course that led north to the Canary Islands. Faulk beamed with joy. He had not dared to say anything, but now everything seemed to be all right. The Moon. The first step was done. The planets, the stars. Before them lay whole worlds.  
"I actually feel like I'm going to the moon," Kovac said to Faulk. "I've never seen him so close to touch."  
"The moon ...", Mallon said regretfully, because according to the operation plan, he was the only one who would never enter. He would be left behind in the Apollo, while Faulk and Kovac used the "moon beetle". Basically, Mallon had the hardest job. He would have to circle lonely and alone around the moon until the others returned - the most abandoned person imaginable.  
Faulk thought he knew what the other thought. "You also love your part, Les," he consoled him therefore. "Without you we would certainly not be able to do it."  
"For sure."  
"You can be pretty sure we would not make it," Kovac put in. "You'll feel like a rescuing angel when we're sitting on the moon."  
Faulk thought back to the last decade. It seemed to have been only yesterday that the first Sputnik raced through the sky, that John Glenn was the first American up here - almost on the same course - circling the earth. Then came the first probes that reported the conditions on the lunar surface before they could follow them. There were now three communications satellites orbiting the moon, designed to maintain the connection between the Moon Beetle and the Apollo.

As they approached the first control station, Faulk made another altitude correction, then switched the autopilot back on. A few seconds later, a voice came from the radio's speaker:  
"Apollo, this is Station One in the Canary Islands. How do you hear me? Come."  
"First class," Faulk replied immediately. "Loud, only a few noises. How do you hear me? "  
"Loud and clear. Give a short report. "  
"Cabin pressure zero comma, stabilized. Humidity 40 percent, carbon dioxide zero-point-five, sunlight normal. "  
"Roger that. Send blood pressure measurements. "  
"Will be done." Faulk pressed a switch, where began by the first of numerous tests that had to be performed while staying in the orbit. "Blood pressure measurement begins," he announced.  
The Canary Islands scurried under them, then the African coast came into view. When they were over the Sahara, Faulk glanced at the clock - six o'clock GMT. The sun was already setting in the west, although only twenty minutes had passed since the Apollo's launch.  
A few minutes later, the station reported in Kano, Nigeria. Johnny Waco, one of the eleven astronauts assigned to her surveillance, called her:  
"Here Kano on FM / KW. How do you hear me, Apollo? "" Loud and clear, Johnny. How do you hear me? "  
"Sure, Joe. Time: T plus twenty-three minutes and ten seconds,” Waco reported. "The matter seems to work. The first evaluation results are outstanding. "  
"Glad you're telling us that, Johnny."  
Faulk reported the values displayed by his instruments.  
"And how are your two stowaways?" Waco asked.  
"They behave like experienced space pilots," Kovac answered. "What do you have to say about the normal deaths?"  
"We envy you all."  
"Just be patient, you'll get another chance," Mallon comforted him.  
They talked until Kano lagged behind them. Then they saw the White Nile and Nairobi appear and disappear. North of Madagascar, they crossed the African coast and raced across the Indian Ocean. There they experienced the first sunrise - a magnificent play of colors from yellow, orange, red and purple. Then they rushed back into the night.  
Faulk tried to contact the nearest station, which had to swim far below, but an electric storm made any communication impossible. Finally he gave it up, but radioed the call sign of the Apollo three more times.  
"Now we must soon reach the Tropic of Capricorn - ninety degrees east longitude," Kovac said after a while. A moment later, the station reported in Muchea, on the west coast of Australia, led by astronaut Gary Myers, commonly known as "Dad."  
"How do you hear me?" He asked when the connection was established.  
"Great, Dad. How do you hear me? "  
"Crystal clear."  
"We did not talk to the floating station because of strong thunderstorms in the area. "" They recorded your call sign and forgave us. How is it with you? "  
"All right, everything's green," Faulk replied.  
"Your speed is according to our measurements  
29300 kilometers per hour, apogee three hundred and twelve kilometers, "Myers reported.  
“Anyway, dad. "  
"How about an official announcement - just for fun?" When Faulk had provided the necessary information, Myers added: "Take care of Perth. They want to illuminate the city for you. "  
"Thanks, will be done." When they made a clock comparison at T plus 49 and a half minutes, Kovac patted Faulk on the shoulder and pointed down. There was a flickering patch of light in the southwest. "Perth is clearly visible. Are you giving them a nice greeting from us, Dad? "  
"Will be done." When Myers spoke again, Faulk felt the regret that lay in his voice. "Looks like you could get some moon soon. I would like to be there ... "  
"Thank you. I think the cabin should have room for eleven of us. "

“Next time ... "The last words were lost in the strong atmospheric disturbances. A few minutes later, Faulk spoke briefly to Woomera and again gave a report, then the flight began across the Pacific.  
Australia lagged behind them as the Apollo swept across countless islands. New Caledonia, Suva, the Fijian Islands and Samoa - they remained hidden in the night. About Canton station Faulk reported again and reported on the conditions within the Apollo. The NASA's NASA computers at Cape Kennedy were already working at full speed to evaluate all the information.  
Then it suddenly became day again, and the Apollo skimmed the station in Guaymas, Mexico.  
The Apollo steered a course that led over Arkansas, Tennessee, North Carolina and Cape Hatteras out into the Atlantic. The three men were surprised at how clearly the landscape was visible beneath them-roads, the Mississippi, the Ozarks, and countless cities.  
Burke contacted them again. "Three and ninety minutes flight time. Speed 29300 kilometers per hour. "  
"Roger that. What are our prospects? "Faulk asked impatiently.  
"What are the instruments indicating?" Burke parried. Faulk reported the readings - fuel, cabin conditions, power, physical crew members, cosmic radiation. "What about meteorites?" Burke asked when Faulk was done.  
"So far the walls are still whole," Kovac put in.

What is it really like? "Faulk asked impatiently.  
"Looks like it's done - assuming the measurements," Burke replied. "Now, a big meeting is taking place in which the decision should be made, but in my opinion everything is already clear. Just a moment, here's Mr. Herndon with an important message for you. "  
"Congratulations," Herndon began. "The decision - at least at this point - is to continue the trial."  
"Good," Faulk replied.  
"Things are going like this," Herndon went on quickly. "The third tier fires again at T plus one hundred and sixty-nine minutes. Now it's exactly ... T plus ninety-six minutes twenty seconds. "  
"Understood," Faulk answered immediately.  
"Immediately report any changes to the current start readiness."  
"Will be done."  
"We are always in radio communication with you. Good luck."  
"Yes, sir, and thank you."  
"Thank you - also the other two."  
"It starts ...", Kovac stated in surprise, than the radio was silent. He looked over at Faulk and Mallon. "Somehow I never quite believed it."  
"Me neither," Mallon replied.  
"We'll make it," said Faulk confidently.

————

Below them, the Canary Islands emerged from the haze. Since the first overflight, the Earth had turned twenty-one degrees, so that their course led them south of the control station. North of Mauretania they reached the west coast of Africa. The Sudanese Republic lagged behind them, flying over part of Ghana and reaching Nigeria. Shortly thereafter, Johnny Waco reported from Kano.  
"All right," he reported. "How do you hear me, Joe?" "Slightly disturbed."  
"Here too. What do the instruments show? "" Green and normal. "  
"Time control," Waco announced. "At the last tone of the time sign, it's exactly T plus one hundred and sixteen minutes."  
"Understood." Faulk looked at the clock. There was silence for a moment, then the time signal came. "Exactly to the second."  
Waco got the last measurements and then said, "Could not be better, Joe."  
"We're just paving the way for the peaceful citizens down there," Kovac interjected.  
"There's probably a regular airline going there until it's my turn," Waco wailed. "I'm allowed to serve lemonade and sandwiches."  
"You'll be faster than you think," Faulk comforted him.

For sure. Be careful."  
Kano stayed behind quickly, so Faulk spoke louder. "Thank you, Johnny. Bye for now."  
"Next week," Waco replied. His voice was weak and distorted. "Do it well."  
"Will be done." Suddenly there was silence again, while the Apollo raced on over Africa. Faulk glanced at the clock. T plus one hundred and twenty minutes - still forty-nine minutes to go. Less than an hour, he thought. In less than an hour, the mighty J-2 engine would emit long flames and bring the Apollo to a speed of over forty thousand hours - toward the moon.  
They flew over the east coast of Africa at Mozambique, leaving Madagascar behind and diving back into the night over the Indian Ocean. This time they were able to contact the floating station shortly before Gary Myers arrived in Muchea.  
"T plus one hundred and forty-three minutes," he announced. "You could put his watch directly after you."  
"Understood," Faulk answered.  
"What are the instruments indicating, Joe?"  
"Green and normal," Faulk replied, thinking  
because the waiting time was almost over.  
Myers got the measurements. "The decision  
It has remained unchanged, "he said. "You still have 25 minutes."  
"Roger that."

Stopwatch set right? "" Twenty-five. "" Take good care of yourself. "" Will do, Dad. "  
They talked until Muchea became incomprehensible. Woomera scurried past, then saw Faulk flashing the lights of a big city far below them, knowing that they were now flying over the eastern coast of Australia. In front of them was a silver streak on the horizon, which was quickly widening - the dawn. From time to time, Faulk glanced at the clock. At T minus five minutes, he said calmly:  
"Prepare for acceleration." They buckled on, buckled the helmets, and put the protective suits under pressure. Kovac gave the last measurements, while Faulk trimmed the attitude of the Apollo.  
At T minus sixty seconds, he turned to the others. "Engineer?"  
"Done!" Mallon said shortly.  
"Co-pilot?"  
"Done," Kovac answered firmly.  
"Apollo ready to start," Faulk noted. His hands ver  
He was always a sign of special attention and tension. But he knew that was just a reflex, because if something went wrong, no one could react fast enough. Kovac beside him leaned back in his seat, seeming to collapse in spite of his shapeless suit. Max had a hard time, Faulk thought. He had almost nothing to do until they had reached the orbit around the moon.

But Mallon - his work began even later, when the moon beetle had separated from the Apollo.  
He stared at the red pointer on the stopwatch. Minus thirty seconds, twenty-five seconds, twenty seconds. There was a hiss in the countless pipes and pipes. At T minus five seconds, he took a deep breath. That too was a habit. The engine began to work irregularly, but after a few seconds the sound became a steady roar that he felt rather than heard.  
"Ignition." Faulk spoke quickly into his microphone while watching the instruments. "Everything's green." The pressure was stronger. Faulk relaxed consciously because he had nothing to do now, but continued to watch the instruments. Now everything happened automatically. Their fate depended on the decisions of the electron brain of the Apollo.  
This electronic data processing device was a marvel of modern technology that calculated and performed the necessary corrections. Per second, it could perform three thousand additions, two thousand subtractions, or three hundred divisions, or multiplies. His word memory contained three thousand terms that monitored and changed ignition, burnout, disconnection, altitude corrections, course changes, acceleration and deceleration. Now the red second hand moved inexorably to the point at which a signal from the electronic computer would cause the burnout. From that moment on, the Apollo raced impassively, driven only by the momentum the J-2 engine had given her.  
A voice came from the speaker-the control station in Goldstone, deep in the Mojave desert.  
The Apollo was on course, according to Goldstone. Time, speed and altitude were consistent with the calculated values. Faulk beo watched the second hand. Minus ten seconds, nine seconds, eight seconds ... Then the electron computer gave a short execution signal. The roar of the engine suddenly stopped.  
The Apollo raced silently through the room.

 


	7. Interlude at the Cape

NBC reporter Martin Lorry adjusted his tie before his picture appeared on millions of television screens.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, the spaceship Apollo is now heading for the moon. The latest news from the NASA command center here on Cape Kennedy says the Apollo left the orbit a few minutes ago. "He described the process and then added," May I now introduce to you Mr. Philip Herndon, the one for the selection the astronaut was responsible. "  
The camera drove back a bit, showing both men.  
"How are you satisfied with the experiment so far, Mr. Herndon?"  
Everything is going great - like a clock, you could say. We are very happy about it and at the same time extremely optimistic. "  
"I assume that you have full confidence in the Apollo?"  
"One hundred percent, even to the crew."  
"How are the men?"  
"Well, they're pretty busy." Herndon admits  
There was a soft smile.  
"Naturally. Do you have special instructions? "  
"I do not know ..."  
"For the landing, I mean."  
"Yes, they will look around, photograph and Bo  
bring samples. "  
"Expect surprises to come  
will, Mr. Herndon? "  
"Surprises? What do you mean by that? "" Life forms, maybe volcanoes ... Some wis  
scientists think that is possible. "  
"We do not expect that."  
"We have heard that pictures of the surface of the  
Moon to be transferred to the earth. Is that correct?"  
"Right, that's planned."  
"NASA has done an excellent job, Mr. Herndon."  
"But also the whole of America," Herndon replied seriously. "The Apollo is a symbol of our scientific and technical capabilities - and of our sacrifice."  
There has been some discussion about the last point, Mr. Herndon. Would you like to say something? "  
"The prestige of America depends on whether the attempt succeeds. The effects will be felt in all areas - militarily, scientifically and economically. "  
"Mr. Herndon, we all know the project is very dangerous. "Lorry leaned forward. "Could you say a few words about it?"  
"The company is dangerous," Herndon admitted, "but we've taken all the preventive measures that were possible. The crew has an excellent education behind them. "  
"I do not doubt that," the reporter said. "Can you describe the most dangerous part of the flight?"  
Herndon stared into the camera. "The unknown," he quietly disgusted. "The unknown is always the most dangerous."


	8. Transposition and docking

The spaceship Apollo still consisted of three parts now - the burnt-out third stage, the moon-beetle and the space capsule with the three men. These components were firmly connected and thus survived the pressure and the heat during the start. A solid tube of high-grade steel joined the space capsule with the third stage. In this interlude was the Moon Beetle - a moth in a steel cocoon protecting it from meteorites.  
Now Faulk had to fulfill a task as a pilot for the first time. According to the operation plan, he had to separate the space capsule from the moon beetle and the third stage and then rotate them one hundred eighty degrees until the engines pointed towards the moon. Then came the crucial point - the Apollo and the Moon Beetle had to be brought together again until the locking mechanism at the lock of the Apollo had contact with that at the lock of the Moon Beetle. It was like taking a cigarette out of the cigarette holder, turning it over and putting it back in the tip. But with the difference that here cigarette and tip are racing through space.  
As the maneuver approached, Faulk recalled the steps. He had to detonate the small detonators to separate the Apollo from the Moonborne Beetle; then the Apollo, with the help of its engines, was to be brought to a safe distance, until it could be turned on its own axis, so that its large engine pointed in the direction of the Moon. His job was to follow the approaching course exactly and to reduce the approach speed in the last stage to a few centimeters per second. No electronics brain could help him, he was thinking, as Kovac turned to him.  
"Ten minutes to parting. We have a connection with the station on Cape Kennedy. "  
"Excellent," said Faulk, relieved. Now he had something to do, the tension broke. "Buckle up ...Suits under pressure! "He looked at the others. Les Mallon squinted as he closed his helmet. Then he held his glove over his face and imitated a wisp.  
"Maybe it's not so boring," said Faulk.  
"I'm sure I'll fall asleep," Mallon answered calmly.  
Faulk took this remark as a vote of confidence and grinned in agreement. He glanced at Kovac. His face bore a calm expression, but there were unspoken questions in his eyes. Will he do it? Can he control the small engines with enough precision ... to estimate the approach speed correctly? Faulk closed his helmet and pressed the oxygen valve. He looked out through the front and side portholes, trying to gauge the field of vision he would have afterward. During the entire maneuver, it would often happen that he lost sight of the third stage and the moon-beetle - critical moments when he could not see the locking mechanism. He had to rely on the instruments, his feel and the intuition he had as an old jet fighter pilot. He looked around again.  
"Done?" His voice sounded dull in the headphones of the others.  
"Alright," Kovac replied. Mallon only raised his hand. At that moment, Cape Kennedy came forward.  
"Ready for separation?" Burke asked.

Understood, done. "  
"Make sure you do not go too far," Burke warned. "Keep the speed as low as possible, Joe."  
"Will be done."  
"And turn on the headlights as you approach." "Understood." They discussed some details.  
Faulk was glad of Burke's good advice, because the other had done the same maneuver once inside the Earth's atmosphere.  
"Do not be in a hurry," Burke warned. "You have plenty of time."  
"From here to the moon," Faulk agreed.  
"You should stay in touch with us the whole time - so you can describe everything exactly what happens and what you are doing."  
"If it does not work?" Faulk made a crooked face.  
"No, so the next team can benefit from your experience," Burke corrected. "It's easy to even include myself."  
"We will do our best."  
"Nice, then go."  
"Thanks, Whitey. If we do not know how to continue, ru  
let's call for help. "  
"Okay, the good uncle on earth is always at Ver  
addition. "  
Faulk looked at the clock - another minute. He moved  
examining the fingers that seemed stiff and immobile in his thick gloves. Too stiff, he thought, around the levers for the small rocket engines to be able to control properly. Kovac nodded encouragingly as he looked at him. When the second hand reached zero, Faulk twisted a lever to release it. "Separation initiated," he reported.  
A barely noticeable jerk indicated that the space capsule had separated from the third stage and the adapter. A moment later, Faulk put the aft-mounted engines into operation and felt them. slowly increasing acceleration. The Apollo moved away from the steel tube, the gap grew rapidly.  
"Distance twenty meters, thirty, forty ..."  
Kovac spoke into a microphone as he stared at the ra screen. "... fifty, sixty ..." Faulk controlled the attitude of the engines and put them briefly into operation, the Apollo slowed down. "... seventy, eighty, ninety," Kovac reported.  
Faulk let the engines work again. This time passed a few seconds before the co-pilot read one hundred and ten yards. Faulk lowered the speed even more until they stopped moving.  
"Stop exactly one hundred and twenty yards now," he reported. Then he remembered Burke's advice, leaned back and thought calmly. The tip of the space capsule pointed to the moon, which was milky white. Through the side portholes he saw only stars - infinite points of light. Under his feet lay the earth. Behind them hovered the moon-beetle in its steel shell, now invisible, visible only as a dot on the radar screen.  
"Start the turn now," Faulk announced. He moved the levers for two engines, which were attached to the bow and stern of the Apollo and pointed in opposite directions. As a result, the space capsule rotated around its transverse axis.  
He immediately sensed that the burst of fire had been too long, but did not correct it to save fuel, which could prove valuable in approaching the moon. Now the third step became visible - the opening of the tube seemed tiny from that distance.  
"Too far," Kovac said shortly.  
"I know. How long does a turn take? "Said Faulk.  
"Immediately," Kovac replied, letting a stopwatch run.  
"Are you asleep, Les?" Faulk asked spitefully.  
"Not quite yet." Mallon grinned widely. "But the eyes keep falling to me."  
Faulk reached for a switch and then spoke into his helmet microphone: "I'm now waiting a few turns until I have the bow out."  
"Lots of time," Burke said reassuringly. "Dr. Ashfield is here ... he wants to know if the maneuver causes equal weight disturbances. "  
"I have no. How about you, Max? "  
"None, either," Kovac answered.  
"Les?"  
"A pleasant feeling - reminds me of girls",Mallon replied.  
"No balance problems, Whitey. Only Les has slight hallucinations. "

They do not count “, said Burke. "He had it before the start."  
"Greetings to Dr. Ashfield. "  
"Is being ordered."  
"Eighteen seconds," Kovac interjected, as the Apollo  
once turned around its longitudinal axis.  
"Count the seconds," Faulk told him. "Roger that."  
Kovac waited a moment longer and then started  
to count out loud. When he reached ten, Faulk ran the engines at half power for two seconds. The rotation time rose to twenty-five seconds. Faulk corrected her enough so that the tip of the space capsule moved only inches, until she pointed straight to the end of the tube. Now they had the moon behind them as the earth filled the sky in front of them.  
"Ready to approach," he reported finally satisfied. "Distance one hundred and twenty yards."  
"What are the visibility, Joe?"  
"Quite strange. The earth emits a dim light, in which the third step is seen like a dark shadow - not very clear. "  
"Can you see the end of the adapter?"  
"Yeah, like a pinhead."  
"Dr. Ashfield wants to know if you like the distance  
appreciate. "  
"Not very good. I prefer to rely on the radar  
device."  
"Do not forget to turn on the searchlight."

If there's no other way, Whitey. I do not want to blind myself. "  
"Roger that."  
"Begin the rapprochement." Faulk let the stern drive work briefly. The space capsule gradually approached the adapter, but the movement was not felt. The third step was just a dark spot in front of the bright surface of the earth that came towards them. Kovac read the distance.  
"... ninety, eighty, seventy ..." When they reached forty yards, Faulk realized that the third step was still vague, and he turned on the searchlight. The beam of light illuminated the interior of the steel tube and was thrown back by the porthole of the moon beetle. Faulk told Burke that he now has better visibility.  
"... twenty, fifteen," Kovac said steadfastly. Faulk had the bow thruster work briefly, and a moment later the forward motion seemed to have stopped. "We're still approaching ... but very slowly," the copilot finally stated.  
Faulk took only a minor height correction, but let the Apollo continue to drift. A few minutes later, he felt as if he just had to reach out to touch the third level. Again he corrected her course until the tip of the spacecraft and the lunar beetle locking mechanism were exactly in line.  
"Last stage of rapprochement," he announced. He let the rear engine work again and watched intently as the tip of the spacecraft entered the tube. As he turned off the searchlight to save power, he felt a slight bump, followed by three more.  
"Like a ferry that reaches its dock," Kovac said. A green light flashed, indicating that the two airlocks were locked tightly together. Faulk leaned back and exhaled slowly, noting that his hands were wet.  
"Custom work," Kovac said.  
"Can you say that? Are you controlling the airlocks, Les? "  
"A two-room apartment," Mallon remarked. "What shall we do with all the space?" He rose from his seat and connected an air pressure gauge to a valve in the middle of the airlock. "I'm constantly pushing for zero," he reported.  
"Open airlocks," Faulk ordered. Mallon opened the airlock, inspected the latch, and finally levered the lever that released access to the moon beetle. Faulk followed him and turned on the lights.  
"Plenty small," Mallon said regretfully. "About as big as the bungalows on Cape Kennedy, which you can rent for two hundred dollars a month."  
Faulk nodded in agreement. The moon beetle, too, seemed much smaller and more compact than he remembered from Earth. Pilot and copilot would sit next to each other in front of a plethora of instruments and devices. A large part of the available space was occupied by radios and the image transmitter, with the help of which the moon beetle would be in permanent contact with the earth and the Apollo. In contrast to the space capsule, the Moon Beetle had two independent engines, which together produced six thousand kilograms of thrust - just enough for the task at hand, but not overly. A smaller engine was planned for the resurgence. It was therefore designed to be lighter because all superfluous tanks and equipment should be left on the lunar surface to save weight.  
"Do you still want to fly, Les?" Faulk asked.  
"Sure, Joe. Actually, it's a shame to come here and not even to the moon. "  
"I think so, but you have an important job too, Les."  
"But I want to fly anyway." Mallon looked around again. "Really, a great sled!"


	9. On the way to the Moon

T plus day one.  
The Apollo seemed to be hanging motionless in space,  
but still she moved. Faulk watched as the earth slowly grew smaller as the moon seemed to swell. Soon they would have reached the point where both celestial bodies had the same size. From then on, the surface of the Earth's satellite would be more and more apparent. Faulk had seen the pictures the unmanned space probes had returned to the earth - grotesquely shaped mountain ranges, needle-pointed summits, abyssal gullies, huge craters, wide plains and frozen lava flows. Their target was the oceanus procellarum, the ocean of storms, an endless plain that extended to the western hemisphere of the moon. She had been elected because she had the fewest unevenness and therefore seemed particularly suitable for a landing.  
While Faulk was thinking about it, he was already busy with the next stage of the operation plan - the separation from the burned-out third stage and the adapter. Until now they had served as protection against meteorites and stabilized the moon beetle during the approach of the Apollo. Right now, there was almost no danger of being hit by meteors. The risk would grow again near the moon, but by that time the lunar beetle would have to be free on each case. If the separation was already carried out, one could test the communications of the moon beetle in time. Kovac discussed the problem with Burke.  
"I would do the breakup now," advised Burke. "You'll be glad if you get the thing off your neck - especially when it comes to every kilogram of brake boost."  
"Joe is of the same opinion."  
"It's pretty comfortable with you, is not it?" "Boring." The co-pilot mimicked a yawn. "Was he around?"  
If you look at the measurements of heart rate and blood pressure, you'd think that you've hibernated up there. "  
"Les sleeps, but Joe and I take care of our tasks."  
"I'm just saving my energy so I can help the bad lunatics later if they're lost," Mallon said.  
"He dreams of girls," Kovac corrected. "Otherwise he does not do anything else."  
"Girl?" Mallon asked innocently.  
"You must know," Burke answered. "There was a call today - over the home number. Who could she have given her? "  
"One of many," Mallon muttered. "What's her name?"  
"Lily Jordan. Seems pretty nice. "  
"Yes, now I remember," Les said. "It's so hard to tell them apart ..."  
"I have her telephone number," Burke said.  
"What do you have?" Mallon asked horrified.  
"So that we can tell her about the latest state of things  
right. Otherwise the poor thing is still worried about you ... "  
"Individual therapy - that too!" said Mallon.  
"We also notify Karen and Eve," Burke continued. "They are great."  
"Thanks," Faulk said simply. "The little ones are fine."

Are you worried about us? "  
"Not at all. You know how they are at that age. They think you're going through a big adventure - like in a science fiction novel. "  
"Is it different?" Kovac asked.  
"Not now, Max." They continued to talk until Faulk announced that he wanted to initiate the separation from the third stage and the adapter. He slowly turned the Apollo around its transverse axis until the third step of the earth was turned.  
"Ready for separation," he reported. "Understood," Burke answered.  
Faulk pressed a button and felt the slight shake as the explosive ignited, which separated the third stage from the adapter. A few seconds later, he released the connection between the steel tube and the Moon beetle. Then he put the bow thrusters in operation and pulled out with their help the moon beetle out of the protective cover. After he had moved enough distance, he let the Apollo rotate again about the transverse axis, until the stern engine pointed in the direction of the moon. The adapter and the third stage now hovered far behind them.  
Without the steel shell, the moon beetle looked ugly and funny at the same time. From his bean-shaped hull went four short legs, which were extended during the landing to absorb the impact. Small portholes in the walls and ceiling of the cabin afforded limited visibility, but a huge porthole was set into the floor to allow close inspection of the landing site.

Faulk stared at the strange construction and at the same time found it repugnant and wonderful. The moon beetle seemed to be straight out of Disneyland-a real spaceship, its edges and corners in stark contrast to all the laws of aerodynamics. The lunar beetle had been designed for flights in a vacuum, where air resistance was irrelevant.  
"Like a giant crab," Kovac noted.  
"Or a failed igloo with legs," said Les Mallon. "How did you ever come up with this construction?"  
"What do you want - a Cadillac?"  
"That would be nice," Mallon agreed.  
"I am already satisfied with that," Faulk explained to the others.  
He had the emergence of the moon beetle from the first blueprints until the numerous tests, and knew that he was outstanding ge suitable for the intended purpose. The air ocean that surrounds the earth makes symmetry necessary - it was superfluous on the moon, because there is nothing symmetrical there, there was nothing that could stop the moon beetle. There was no wind there, no rain fell. A bizarre world with temperature swings between one hundred and thirty degrees plus and a hundred and fifty degrees minus. "A world of unlife," Herndon had once called the moon - and they were racing toward it.  
If everything went according to plan, the Apollo would be in a circular orbit at T plus seventy-two hours around the moon - in about forty hours. The three men took turns and closed for a few hours. Faulk and Kovac occasionally talked to Burke, Waco, or Myers, and gave the values that their instruments indicated.  
Ashfield was particularly interested in her daily routine. “How bored are you? Are you excited ... nervous? Do you have indefinite feelings of anxiety?  
"I do not like the food," Mallon told him. "Who put it together - a chemist?"  
"Yes," Ashfield answered seriously.  
Faulk found it difficult to relax completely. Failure threatened everywhere, for in space even the failure of a tiny device could provoke disaster. Kovac seemed to be doing something similar, because Faulk noticed that the other one checked the instruments again and again. Only Mallon remained completely unmoved and slept every spare minute.  
Faulk stared outside, trying to imagine what would happen in the next few hours. The speed of the Apollo steadily decreased due to the influence of earthly gravity. Eventually she would reach the point where the attractions of the moon and the earth were lifted, so that the space capsule would almost come to a standstill. Then the moon looked like a giant magnet, pulling the Apollo up and down until the starship's main engine produced enough thrust to stop the downward movement. This moment worried Faulk.  
He thought carefully. Every drop of fuel was precious and could only be consumed to perform absolutely necessary maneuvers or course corrections. If the Apollo had approached the moon far enough on its elliptical orbit, the main engine would have to work with extreme force to bring the spaceship into orbit. From there, barely two hundred kilometers up, they had to check the maps, familiarize themselves with the surface, measure the orbit and prepare for the landing ...


	10. Translunar coast,day 1

T plus day two.  
"A pretty bird," Kovac said.  
"Really pretty," confirmed Faulk enthusiastically as he tested several levers.  
They sat side by side in the moon beetle and practiced  
once again the handles they already mastered in their sleep. The arrangement of the seats also allowed Kovac to reach all the levers and buttons so that he could intervene if Faulk should fail. As co-pilot, he fixed the course, read the instruments, and maintained the radio link-in short, he represented Faulk's eyes and ears.  
After completing the inspection of all the systems, Faulk focused his attention on the portholes. He was not completely satisfied in this respect. The forward and upward view was barely enough, but the engines blocked his view vertically. He had to lean far,to see one of the four struts. That was precious little.  
"We'll all have to rely on radar and the measurement of our rate of descent," Kovac said. "We have to float down like a feather."  
"Like a feather ...", Faulk mumbled doubtfully.  
"We can float at low altitude and first find out whether the surface is made of dust or rock," suggested the copilot.  
"I'm just worried about that."  
"Dust?"  
"Then the view is gone," explained Faulk.  
"The gas jet could stir up a lot of dust, Max."  
They thought about it. The problem was by no means new, since the results of the unmanned probes showed that the lunar surface was covered with a thin layer of dust. A landing in the wrong place could be catastrophic.  
"We just have to be lucky," said Kovac.  
They talked about it. NASA insisted on a night-time landing because those in charge thought that the cold was better than the heat of the lunar day. Faulk was of the same opinion, but not necessarily, for his imagination was far enough enough to imagine how weak the lighting had to be at night. What would a pinpointed mountain peak look like in this light? And a chasm? He could not be enthusiastic about this idea.

”Ash storms and pitch-dark night - the purest Sunday excursion, "he stated ironically.  
"We can turn on the headlights. That certainly helps. "  
"Even in a dust storm, Max?"  
"Then we just float."  
"Not very long. If we start with that, we have  
used up the fuel soon. "  
"We'll make it." Kovac grinned. "Much  
easy it is easy. "  
"You're just an optimist," Faulk replied. "But you're right - a try can not hurt. "  
They crawled back through the airlock into the room  
over where Mallon had made himself comfortable on Faulk's seat.  
"I thought you were lost," he greeted her. "I wanted to go on my own."  
"Without Navigator?" Kovac asked. "You would never find out ..."  
"Well, that would be easy enough." Mallon pointed to the moon filling the sky in front of them.  
On that day, two things happened that frightened Faulk. A red flashing light indicated that the fan that was circulating the air inside the cabin was no longer working properly. Les Mallon found the mistake in no time and eliminated it. The incident did not matter much, but he reminded Faulk like he did that even uncomplicated devices could fail. A short time later, a loud alarm sounded, accompanied by another red flashing light.

“Meteor impact!”, said Faulk loudly. He closed his helmet with a single hand and put the suit under pressure. Kovac and Mallon also reacted automatically, although Les had just had a little sleep. Faulk glanced at the pressure gauge-the needle stayed at zero-point.  
When the pressure did not drop, Kovac hesitantly said, "Either a very small particle - or the wall has closed again."  
"Probably." Faulk stared at the impact counter.  
"Hopefully that was just a coincidence hit," Mal lon explained. "I do not want to end up in a shooting gallery."  
"You would make a pretty clay pigeon," the copilot confirmed.  
"A hero never has clay feet."  
"We can not rely on it being just a coincidence hit," Faulk interrupted. He shrugged his shoulders. "From now on, one of us must always be under pressure in his suit." Kovac grimaced.  
"I volunteer." Mallon grinned. "Then I can finally sleep in peace."  
"Agreed," the copilot said quickly.  
"We will replace each other at short intervals," said Faulk. He reported the incident and reported his decision. Then he leaned back in his seat and began a long discussion with Kovac about the best method of landing on the moon. Mallon was already fast asleep.


	11. Translunar coast, day 2

T plus day three.  
The moon now filled most of the sky  
\- a giant boulder that raced through the eternal silence of the universe at more than three thousand seven hundred kilometers per hour. In a little more than twenty-seven days he turned once around its axis, its mass was one-and-one-eighth of Earth's mass, its diameter three thousand four hundred and seventy miles, and gravity a sixth of that ruling on Earth.  
Faulk stared out the porthole, trying to make out her landing. The mountain ranges - the Alps, Apennines, Carpathians and the Caucasus emerged clearly and skirted the maria in the north. Thousands of ring-shaped mountains with diameters between two hundred meters and one hundred kilometers were visible - among others Plato, Aristotle, Copernicus and Linnaeus. The mare imbrium, which was bounded in the southwest by the Apennines, went over in value in the oceanus procella rum. Faulk looked thoughtfully at the numerous cracks that ran through it.  
"Mountains," Mallon said next to him.  
"Filled cracks," Kovac claimed. "Not very wide and especially not in the area of the landing field."  
"The surface does not look exactly," said Faulk, as if he did not understand him. "In my opinion, it is very jagged, even around the middle point."

Kovac set the telescope sharper. "Could be," he finally admitted.  
At that moment, Burke came back from Cape Kennedy. "You made it soon," he announced. "Remaining time until the start of the braking period - exactly two hours and ten minutes."  
"Roger that. Two hours ten minutes. "Kovac read the instruments, then Faulk and Burke discussed the problems encountered during braking.  
When they had finished, Burke said, "Joe, somebody else wants to talk to you now." Before Faulk had properly understood, a woman's voice sounded from his headset:  
"Joe ..."  
Karen! He leaned forward as if closer. "Honey, how are you?"  
"Excellent."  
"I miss you very much."  
"I'll be back soon," he promised her. You under  
Stopped for a few minutes and then said goodbye. Faulk saw the expectant expression in Kovac's eyes as Burke spoke again:  
"Max, here is someone for you."  
"Here," the copilot answered.  
"Max ..." Eve said softly. "Max, are you safe?" "As sure as possible. You do not need you  
To worry."  
As they talked, Faulk threw one  
Look at Mallon, who made a dull face. Of course, Burke had ... When he thought about it, Burke reported again:  
Les? "  
"Me?" Mallon exclaimed in surprise.  
"Anyone else up there who's called Les?"  
Burke asked.  
"I'll take the call," Mallon said with one patronizing hand movement.  
"Les, my boy ..."  
"Lily," he answered in a satisfied voice. "How are you honey?"  
"Good, Les. Was not it nice of Mr. Burke for inviting me here? "  
"Nice guy," he replied.  
"How are you, Les? What are you doing?"  
"I'm heading for the old boulder. Joe and Max  
help me get as good as they can ... "  
"Still the same stupid jokes," replied  
Lily. "Come back soon, Les."  
"As fast as possible," he promised.  
Their conversation lasted a few minutes, then there was a short silence before Burke was back on the device. "T minus one hundred and fifteen minutes ... I stay in touch with you."  
"Thanks, Whitey," Faulk replied, talking to the other two at the same time.


	12. Lunar orbital insertion and coast

T minus nine minutes.  
Faulk stared at the red second hand and felt the tension grow inside him. At the same time he felt lonely and abandoned. Burke, Waco and Myers were always available, their knowledge and experience at their disposal. Kovac and Mallon helped him out. But he still felt lonely, for responsibility for the company's success rested on his shoulders.  
The second hand kept moving. At T minus six minutes, Faulk gave a short report. As he closed his helmet and put the suit under pressure, he spoke into the microphone: "Cape Kennedy, here Apollo ..."  
"Understood, here is Cape Kennedy." Burke's voice was weak.  
"Start with the altitude correction," announced Faulk. "Roger that."  
Faulk successively put the auxiliary power units into operation  
and aligned the stern of the Apollo with the main engine exactly on the moon. Kovac observed the artificial horizon and provided the necessary corrections. "Good job," he finally said admiringly.  
At T minus two minutes, Faulk reported: "Attitude corrected."  
"Roger that. Duration of the braking period five minutes twenty seconds. "  
"Brake period five minutes twenty seconds," confirmed Faulk. He glanced quickly at the speedometer. While the Apollo's escape speed had initially been over forty thousand kilometers per hour, it had dropped to about eight hundred kilometers per hour in the course of the flight. Then the attraction of the moon became noticeable, causing the Spaceship to accelerate to nine thousand three hundred kilometers per hour. After the end of the braking period, it should have only a speed of five thousand seven hundredths of an hour, so that the attraction force of the moon would be sufficient to force the Apollo into the intended circular path. It all looked very nice on paper. Faulk just hoped it would work out that way.  
At T minus one minute he turned to the others. "Finished?"  
"It's going to go wrong," Mallon replied cheerfully, having been in great spirits since talking to Lily Jordan.  
Kovac nodded in agreement. When the red pointer reached zero, Faulk turned a lever. There was absolute silence for a few seconds before the thunder of the main engine penetrated the bulkheads.  
"The ignition was late," Kovac stated worriedly.  
"Almost two seconds," Faulk agreed, "but still within the safety line." The growing pressure hit them and squeezed them against the seatbelts. The lunar surface raced below them as they approached the western horizon. The Apollo sank steadily while reducing its speed so that it came closer to the moon in a shallow spiral.  
"The ocean of storms," Kovac said, pointing his thumbs down. "Our landing field."  
Faulk grinned. "Do you think you will find him again?"

If you get lost, you can wait a long time, "Mallon put in. "I've heard that it should be pretty cold down there."  
"Do not worry, we can do it," Kovac replied confidently. "Only the return flight could be a bit more difficult."  
"Right, Max," Faulk agreed.  
He glanced again at the clock. T plus three minutes twenty seconds - two minutes remaining to the burn. The pointer moved quickly. T minus one minute. T minus ...  
When the clock read T minus zero seconds, Faulk pushed forward the lever that stopped the engine. Immediately thereafter the needle of the heavy gauge dropped to zero, a sure sign that the Apollo had reached its intended orbit. Faulk opened the pressure of his suit and tore open his helmet to see better.  
"Finally ...", sighed Kovac. "The three days have seemed like a whole year to me."  
"It's getting harder now," Mallon said.  
"For sure. Now we have to get into the night-night zone soon. "  
"What did you say?"  
"In the completely dark night zone, in which not even the earth shines - so I call it anyway," the copilot told him.  
"When the earth goes down," Faulk interjected.  
Mallon laughed. "That's really new."  
"We'll have to get used to it." Just a few minutes later, the earth underneath the lunar horizon disappeared, and the rocky landscape below took on a deep black color. Like the inside of a coal sack, Faulk thought.  
"Like in a railway tunnel," Kovac said.  
"I remember these things on the annual market, where you also drove through a pitch-deep tunnel," Mallon added. "We always drove together with girls."  
"You'll get through this tunnel often enough," Kovac replied, referring to Mallon's watch as Faulk and he landed on the moon.  
"I am a specialist for dark corners."  
"Sure." As the copilot got to work on the radar, Faulk and Mallon talked about the tasks Mallon expected up here. They agreed that the critical moment was the meeting of Apollo with the moon beetle.  
"Now ... there's one of the news satellites on the screen!" Kovac interrupted suddenly.  
"Excellent," said Faulk, relieved. The three satellites circling the moon were supposed to allow the connection between the Moon Beetle and Apollo if the spacecraft was on the other side of the moon.  
"There my sleep goes," moaned Mallon. "You two are going to talk all the time."  
"We will study the moon," Kovac corrected. "You will get past the nonsense."

Yes, yes, I know. "  
"What can you see on the screen?" Faulk asked impatiently.  
"The satellite is flying higher - about ten thousand meters." Kovac stared at the screen. "Course deviates slightly from ours. Either his or ours is not exactly right. "  
"What do you think?"  
"I can not say for sure, but I think we're pretty much on the right track."  
"Let's hope that at least two of the things work. We can use them, "Les said.  
"I'm already satisfied with one." Faulk smiled weakly.  
At worst, they had temporarily no connection with the Apollo. No connection with the Apollo - with the world? Dr. Ashfield - and the other aerospace physicians - had conducted numerous experiments on the effects of total isolation on humans. First came the disorientation, followed by hallucinations ... How would Les survive the loneliness? Was he afraid of it?  
The Apollo flew over the cut-off line. The darkness, which usually lasted two weeks, was already behind them after sixty minutes, because the spaceship had flown to the rising earth. Kovac looked down.  
"Still on the back ... on the invisible side," he told them, "about one hundred and forty degrees eastern longitude. "Faulk stared out to look at the plateaus, ring-shaped mountains, craters, and grooves. What purpose did the moon fulfill? Was he just there to cause ebb and flow on earth? Was he a remnant of the time when the earth was created? He thought about it.  
At T plus sixteen minutes after flying over the cut-off line, Kovac announced, "We're approaching the mare spumans ... about ninety degrees east longitude."  
"Can you recognize anything?" Faulk asked with poorly concealed impatience.  
"Not yet."  
"Son, what a navigator," Les said. "I would not be surprised if we were really on Mars."  
Faulk looked at his watch. "Now we'll get to the charted page soon." He turned on the radio to contact Cape Kennedy.  
"Cape Kennedy," Burke said to Faulk's astonishment.  
"What, you're still on duty?" Faulk asked in amazement.  
"Overtime," the other replied cheerfully. "We astronauts absolutely need a union that prevents this in the future."  
"Have the darkness behind us now - we are about ninety degrees east longitude," Faulk reported.  
"It's warm and sunny here."  
"Here too - about one hundred and thirty degrees." "How high are you flying?" Burke asked. "One hundred and ninety-six kilometers," Kovac glanced at the instruments. "Speed five hundred seven hundred kilometers per hour."  
Faulk made some. Pictures of the lunar surface, as Kovac suddenly thrust it excitedly in the side. "The mare crisium!" He pointed to an oval level just below the northwestern horizon. "Not to be missed. It's between eleven and twenty-five degrees north longitude ... "  
"South of it you must see the crater Langrenus." Faulk was carried away by the other's excitement.  
"Already there," the copilot said triumphantly. "There - Langrenus and Vendilinus ... they limit the mare fecunditatis. I'll tell you when we're at the level of Langrenus. "  
"Understood." Faulk put his hand over the stopwatch button.  
"Attention ..." Kovac waited a few more seconds and then said sharply, "Now!"  
"Clock is running," Faulk answered, turning on the automatic movie camera that was to record the details of the area below them. Kovac, using his map, pointed out the other two for particularly distinctive features. At five degrees north latitude was the crater Taruntius, in the south, the crater Gutenberg, from which a mountain range extended to the Pole.  
"Thirty degrees east longitude," announced the copilot now. "Over there lies the Haemus Mountains and a little further ... almost on the horizon ... the mare serenitatis.”

Faulk glanced at the clock - T minus twenty minutes since flying over the cut-off line - then stared down again at the bizarre rock formations the spaceship swept over. Kovac further stated:  
"There ... Hippardius, Albategnius, and Ptolemy," he suddenly exclaimed, pointing to three peaks that together formed a triangle. "And there ... directly below us ... the sinus medii."  
"Is that good?" Mallon asked.  
"That means we're really where we think we are," the co-pilot said.  
"Apparently, we're actually on the equator," Faulk said.  
"Or at least very, very close to it," Ko vac replied firmly. "It will soon turn out when we fly over the crater Lansberg."  
"Now we would have to ..."  
"Zero degrees longitude and latitude," added the co-pilot. He glanced at the clock. "T plus thirty minutes - that's right."  
When the sinus medii had lingered behind them, Kovac pointed to the mare nubium, which extended to the southern horizon. Then he made the crater Erastothwnes, which lay in front of a spur of the Apennines. Faulk smiled at his enthusiasm, because Kovac was obviously pleased with the ease with which he could accurately name all the craters. Suddenly, the copilot announced soberly: "Now we are approaching the ocean of storms."  
Oceanus procellarum. Faulk repeated the name as soon as possible, "promised Faulk. "At the moment we only look at the landscape below the flight route."  
"Are you running the camera?"  
"For some time." Faulk hesitated and then reported on the slight haze on the porthole. Burke was worried.  
"I will alert our big shots ..."  
"Maybe a few professionals," Faulk suggested dryly.  
"Of course, immediately."  
"It does not necessarily have to get worse." "I hope not. Contact us if there is something changes, Joe. "  
"Will be done."  
When Faulk turned back to the others, they were already working hard on a map that Mallon would later have to focus on alone.

 


	13. Preparations for landing

Hey, look at that! "Kovac exclaimed.  
Faulk raised his head. "What is there to see?" "The portholes ... now they are all pretty badly fogged. "  
Faulk swore softly and stared out, but  
a light mist seemed to prevail outside. He examined the glass of the portholes, which consisted of three slightly tinted layers designed to filter out harmful radiation. He let out a breath as he saw neither cracking nor chipping. But there was no denying that the haze had increased.  
"Looks bad," he said to Kovac.  
"Did we perhaps go through a zone where very small meteorites are occurring?" Mallon asked.  
"Then the devices would have sounded the alarm," Faulk replied. "No, I do not think so."  
"Actually, I was thinking rather of very fine dust ..." "Maybe ..."  
"Could be," Kovac put in. "At a speed of five thousand seven hundred kilometers per hour, even the impact of very small particles ... "  
"Wait," Faulk interrupted. He turned to Mallon. "Are you checking the lunar beetle right now? Take a good look at the portholes. "  
"Will be done."  
While Mallon climbed through the airlock into the Moon-bug, Faulk got in touch with Burke.  
"I just talked to the glass specialists," Burke reported. "They think that this phenomenon is due to very fine meteorite dust, even if the impact counter registers nothing. There is a lot of excitement here. What about the moon beetle? "  
"Les is just checking him."  
"We need the result immediately."  
"When he is back. Any suggestions?"  
"What are the visibility conditions now?" Burke replied. 

Not terribly bad. "  
"I have to know, Joe."  
"Otherwise there's nothing to say, Whitey. Only this  
Haze on the outside. "  
"I do not like to tell you," Burke lowered his voice.  
"But you should not try to land before the further development is established."  
"But it's getting worse!" Protested Faulk. "Command is command, Joe. I'm really sorry."  
"It was already clear from the beginning that not  
everything could go one hundred percent smooth. "  
"Nobody took that, Joe."  
"Okay," he replied tiredly.  
Kovac turned to Faulk after he turned off the device  
had switched. "We can not talk too much about it, Joe."  
"That does not work, Max."  
"The glass is really not that bad," Ko vac told him.  
"Not yet, but it can get worse."  
"With the moon beetle, we can also try an instrument landing," the copilot exclaimed. "My God, Joe, now we're finally here, we can not give up in the last second."  
"I totally agree with you - but command is simply command."  
Faulk remembered Herndon's last admonitions. Therefore, it was important above all that the Apollo and their crew came back safely - the landing on the moon, on the other hand, was of secondary importance.  
Kovac did not seem to remember, otherwise he would have pushed less for a landing. They must have good visibility, Faulk thought. Not only from the lunar beetle, but also during the re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere when the Apollo reached a speed of over forty-eight thousand hours.  
Kovac pointed down. "We are approaching the crater Langrenus. A few more seconds ... now! "  
Faulk pressed the button on the stopwatch. "Duration of Orbit: One Hundred and Twenty-One Seconds," he read. "The time is right, but we will control it again via Lansberg."  
They continued discussing the visibility until Mallon returned. "Minor turbidity on the portholes in the bow. Not too bad, "he reported.  
"And what about looking down?" Asks Faulk.  
"Totally undisturbed," Mallon replies.  
"You have to tell Burke that!" Kovac said emphatically. Faulk grinned involuntarily as he considered that the other would actually risk landing on the moon when there was no other option. Was that enough to mark the difference between pilot and copilot?  
When the mare serenitatis reappeared in front of them, Faulk switched on the television camera and picked up the landscape below them. Kovac provided the necessary explanations.  
"The first pictures are coming here now," reported Burke enthusiastic. "Excellent! Small distortions, but still much better than those picked up by probes. On the screen, a double crater can be seen, a rugged rocky landscape through which solidified lava flows seem to roll. Now a long plane ... "  
"Sinus medii," interrupted Kovac.  
"Right, it can not be anything else. Ptolemy, Alphonsus, a whole series of craters. The mare nubium ... "  
"Exactly, the camera is facing southwest."  
"Wonderful!" Exclaimed Burke. "Keep it up. The recordings are broadcast on all television stations in America ... "He spoke hastily. "The shadows are fantastically fantastic. The view from up there must be overwhelming. "  
Faulk stopped the transmission a few minutes later. "We have to take care of the navigation again," he explained.  
"When you have time again ..."  
"Sure, we'll get back to you with more shots."  
"With Les Mallon in the lead role," the engineer threw  
on.  
"We'll take her anyway," Burke promised. "The Bil  
they were great, Joe. Too bad I'm not up there too. "  
Faulk and Mallon began a thorough review of all the Moon Beetle's devices, while Kovac determined the exact location of the main craters and put these values on two maps.


End file.
